


Blocks of Canvas

by GibbousLunation



Category: Transistor (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 09:05:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3351038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GibbousLunation/pseuds/GibbousLunation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He supposed this was all fate had in store for him. His story was finished, but hers was just beginning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blocks of Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago and have published it in a few places, but I figured posting it somewhere different couldn't hurt. This game still gets to me in the best ways.

He'd accepted his fate, at this point.

There was no point in lying about the situation, sugar coating facts, painting over cracks in the foundation; there was no getting out of this. He was trapped- trapped here in this strange in between, staring forever into a world he was no longer a part of.

Instead of distant stars and voids, he saw vivid blue eyes, swirling red hair, and now, a white page for her to rewrite her whole life once more.

Only, without him.

He'd be lying if he said that didn't kill him inside, that he didn't lose that much more hope every minute he went having to stay on stand-by. He was an action driven kind of man, tended to do a lot of talking with his hands and fists, told more with his expressions and demeanor. There was nothing for him to do now, except watch. As if his entire existence and life had meant nothing. The small thread of his sanity was desperately clinging onto the simple fact that she was listening, that he wasn't entirely alone. In a strange way, he felt incredibly close to her; his entire existence revolved around her now, he couldn't do anything except talk. And talk, and talk. It was pathetic really, but he was still here. Still with her. He supposed that would have to be enough.

Red was a firestorm, she'd taken down the Camerata one by one, refused to let their destiny rewrite any fraction of her being. She'd defeated every odd and aced every test, and now.... Now it was Red, and him, and nothing.

Red had the power to make everything the way it was, to recreate everything differently, to make every dream come true. He wasn't sure if the people could be rewritten, but they had all the time in the world to figure something out. All Red had ever wanted was to change the way their society worked, to give everything to her community, and to never take anything for herself. She'd always been hopelessly selfless. She could do it now, eradicate poverty, inequalities, restrictions; the possibilities were endless.

She could make new friends, expand her career ever farther so that everyone could see her the way he did. She could get the recognition and fame that she deserved, and all the gratitude that came with it.

Maybe she'd even find new love.

An echo of heartache rang through him at the thought, followed by the memory of her smile, of her laughter pealing out and up and filling a room. He remembered the softness of her kiss on his cheek, of her mumbling under her breath while working on songs late into the night, of the pure unadulterated joy lighting up her every being. How could he not want that for her? How could he wish for anything other than her complete happiness? She deserved to live, a full and honest life. She deserved love, from someone who could give her love and support and care in return.

 

_"Are you coming to bed?" He'd asked, unbuttoning his shirt and calling out through the hallway of their apartment. A night on the town had never been so wonderful, or so exhausting. He was looking forward to crawling in to bed and pulling her up close and passing the hell out, probably all the while smiling like the huge romantic sap he truly was. Not that anyone could blame him. "Red?"_

_The sound of pen scratching furiously on paper drifted down the hall as he peeked out, he sighed fondly and meandered out into the kitchen, preparing a new pot of coffee to hopefully keep him alert for a few more minutes. Sleep could wait._

_Light spilled out of the tiny alcove they called her office, she was curled around her desk space, still wearing her 'date night' dress as he walked up behind her. "Sorry, sorry, I just... had an idea and-" she mumbled distractedly, tongue poking out from the side of her mouth as she concentrated._ _He felt his heart flutter._

_Leaning over her to place her special mug in front of her, he took a moment to push a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes and tuck it behind her ear. "I know, I know." He kissed her cheek. "What's it about?" She titled her head, took a breath and looked up at him. "Us." She said, quirking a corner of her lips at him, "It's about us." She pulled suddenly on his shirt collar, bringing him in close enough to capture his lips with hers. He closed his eyes, and could feel her smile widen._

 

He knew Red loved him, it was in a way written in the coding of his being. Red loved him and he- god, he loved her.  And because he loved her, he would just have to accept future possibilities like anything else. Nobody deserved to be stuck with _a_ disembodied voice for all eternity, and he supposed-

He supposed that's all fate had in store for him, this was the end of his story, but hers was just beginning.

Watching the town unfurl and recollect itself brought a broken smile to his face, everything as it was. Without him. Of course it wouldn't really change at all, but he hoped at least he'd left some mark. "The most important legacies are the ones you leave behind", right? He didn't have much, he wasn't a talkative guy. He'd always been a little anxious a little shy, a little too brutish, but he'd made some friends. He'd met Red. And man, what a legacy Red would be.

Her quiet humming was so forlorn and desolate in the expanse of nothing he felt an overwhelming desire to sweep her away from all of it, to somehow escape from his literal prison and her vocal one and just cease existing for a moment. Their lives were far too immense, too calculated and coded and never ending, for one moment to have full reign over the binary and the nanoseconds would be paradise.

 

 

_She looked radiant on the stage, a simple yellow dress elegantly twirling around her slim frame, her eyes closed in complete rapture; feeling every note of the song. He'd lost himself for a moment, in the emotion in her voice, in the grace she radiated._

_He couldn't remember why he'd stumbled into this bar honestly, but it didn't matter anymore. Not a whole lot mattered except for the strangely captivating red haired girl. She opened her eyes, and in the way they shined so vividly, he knew he would gladly stay lost here for as long as she'd allow it._

 

Red's gentle humming suddenly took on a far more familiar tune, and his stomach lurched abruptly. Why were they... oh. It was strange to look down at himself, like looking in a mirror and having the reflection not look back at you. He wasn't one to be overly self conscious, but now he found himself fondly remembering every scar, every line on his face, every sign of age and wear. But it felt like looking at an old jacket or an old toy, he didn't belong there. More than anything he wished there was a magic switch, a way to fix this. He thought if anything, if he didn't deserve a happy ending, Red did. She deserved a fairy tale close where everything worked out alright. She'd made it so far, she'd saved everyone. And her reward was a broken boy, a broken voice, and a broken beginning. 

"That's not me anymore." He found himself whispering. "I'm still with you, but I'm not getting out of here." Somehow it was easier to say out loud than to think it fervently, to know its absolute truth but mumble like a solemn prayer the opposite. Saying it made it concrete, and he felt the remnants of his hopes fade away. Looking at his body lying across from him, reality creeping down his throat thickly, he felt like crying.

 

 

_It had been a long, long night, his back and muscles ached with every move he made, and he'd been dreaming of unwinding on the couch for hours. Unlocking the front door felt like reaching nirvana. He shuffled off his shoes and began the short trek to the living room, pulling a hand across his face in an attempt to drag the exhaustion from his bones. Work was killing him these days, long hours, loud annoying ceo's who honestly had no idea what they were even spouting off about; he'd contemplated quitting and just going home so many times through out the day, if he'd stuck around for an hour more he probably would have screamed. All he wanted was to watch a few hours of mindless television, have a nap, and forget the world existed for a while._

_He somehow managed to stumble into the living room, but instead of a dark, quiet room he was met with a faint lamp light and the sight of a sleeping Red slumped over one armrest of the couch. There were two mugs of coffee sitting on the table, and his favorite show playing softly in the background, casting an unearthly pale glow on the dark circles under her eyes. He blinked in surprise, gathering that she must have stayed up all night just to meet up with him when he got home. The surge of immense affection almost bowled him over, god, he was so lucky. He picked up the wool blanket hanging on the back of the couch and gently draped it over her shoulders, pulling her towards him and away from the uncomfortable arm rest. She mumbled groggily, furrowing her eyes before dazedly staring up at him._

_"Hi..." He whispered. She blinked slowly at him for a moment before snuggling into his chest. "Hey."_

 

And yet, the sky was filled momentarily with her smile, with the same spark of complete bliss in her electric blue eyes.

Nothing in this world could have made his blood turn to ice quicker.

"Red? Hey. What are you doing?" She let out a soft sigh, and then he felt distantly as she pressed him into the ground, propping him up. He had clarity, a moment of completely horrifying clarity as he saw the picture before him. His dead body, or what was left of it, slumped against the cornerstone of what became the end of Cloudbank. Red, sitting beside, leaning on him and reaching out to take his hand. The look of confidence on her face, slightly apologetic, slightly forlorn, slightly desperate. "Red-" His heart was breaking, shattering apart into bits and bytes. He knew it wouldn't be enough forever, his frail and breaking voice crackling across seams and ridges wouldn't be enough to hold her here. But Red had so much more to see and experience, to cut it so short- "Red please don't." He knew it was pointless, Red always had a plan and she couldn't be persuaded once she'd set her mind to it; her stubbornness was terrifying.

She had to be thinking that if the transistor killed her, she'd end up in the same in between he was floating in. He had never wanted something more desperately, than for her to be standing among the golden fields with him but not like this, never like this. They had no assurance, no way of knowing she'd end up with him. People had said there were voices within the Transistor, that when different people came close they heard a different loved ones voice echoing back, but he hadn't seen anyone else. He wasn't so sure he was anywhere, that he wasn't now a piece of programming in a machine. Red couldn't join him, there was nothing to join. He didn't exist anymore beyond 'with Red', beyond a voice, beyond this technology.

He felt panic like liquid nitrogen sinking into his lungs, he couldn't stop her. He couldn't save her. He would have to watch, helplessly, hopelessly. 

She lifted a hand, and smiled, and his world broke apart in pixels.

"Red!"

 

~~~

 

* * *

 

 

***

 

For a moment, she panicked.

It hurt so much, hearing the broken plea in his voice, feeling the overwhelming end. Her final breaths stole through her like knives, a jarred and torn end that couldn't be sewn together and made whole once more.

What if she was wrong, what if they ended up somewhere farther apart from each other without even the one way mirror or the crack in the door that they'd held onto. He'd said he had seen no one else, what if-

What if she'd left him alone, trapped permanently inside a world he could see but not be a part of, a world that had died and deleted and been stripped down to nothing but outlines. All he'd have would be the image of her dying breath. The idea was indescribably awful, and yet, the idea of living while he couldn't, that seemed so much worse.

She'd never been a selfish person, never one to put her own happiness above others, but she'd fought so long for a lopsided piece to a broken puzzle. It was unfair that her reward was to be stuck alone with the echo of Him.So she'd taken a risk, for her sanity, her happiness. For once choosing what might bring her home rather than what might help everyone else. But what if she'd miscalculated? Could she handle being completely torn away from the one thing she wanted so desperately? The answer was a resounding no, but she had no other option.

There was no other choice without him, there was no starting over, no point to a long successful future without him there to fill her coffee mug or kiss her goodnight. Sure, she could live a long life, have fortune and fame and help her community like she had always wanted. It would be jaded and broken, although, and she knew she could never be happy.

A part of her felt that sacrificing her love, her true sense of life, was enough. She'd given enough to the world. It was time she got something back.

She felt the fractions of her consciousness fading away with a slow and quiet exhale, hoping beyond hope that he'd understand, that he wouldn't let himself be filled with betrayal or guilt. She hoped beyond hope that wherever she went next it would be with him.

To the country. To home.

 

_The night sky looked beautiful, she thought, as usual. Not too chilly of a breeze, just the right amount of speckled clouds, a calculated beauty. Nothing genuine. She sighed. As if anything in Cloudbank these days was truly genuine._

_There was a soft clicking sound behind her, and she pulled her knees to her chest absentmindedly. "What are you doing up here?" His voice was playful, with an underlying concern that immediately made her feel slightly guilty for leaving him so abruptly. She looked away, staring at the city skyline in the distance. "I know my dancing.... well, it's not great, but I didn't know it was that bad," he chuckled a little self-consciously._

_Red sighed again, "It's not you, you know that it's not you."_

_There was a pause, and she listened to the faint sound of music spilling upwards from stories below. Even the music was hollow, forced in a way that set her teeth on edge. Everything about all of it was too formal, like an echo of true meaning, like a facade of emotion. Red hated it. She felt the weight of his arm around her shoulder, "It's the people, isn't it? Those... Camerata assholes, right?" Her silence answered his question she supposed, but she leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder with a faint nod anyways._

_"I just want one night off, one night without them and their two faced words. Tonight was supposed to be.... Sybil said it would be fun, no drama or politics, nobody getting hurt...." He huffed lightly, in sympathy, and they stared in silence out at the dark skies. "I just wanted one night." She whispered. To herself or to him, she wasn't sure. It didn't matter regardless, her words seemed insignificant in the still night._

_Then, he was pulling his arm off of her and standing, she turned to him in surprise as he grabbed her hand. Silhouetted against the stars, his smile twinkled brightly at her, "I think you owe me a dance." He pulled her into his arms, twining their fingers together, and began humming quietly, off key. He pulled her hips towards him lazily, and rocked them slowly back and forth in circles across the rooftop._

_It was a little melancholic, his voice a little broken, but it was beautiful. In that moment, Red had never felt more alive and real._ _Staring into his deep, warm eyes, she felt intangible._

_"One night off, just you, and me, and the stars. Okay?" He gently nudged her forehead with his own, holding her that much tighter, the light crows feet around his eyes creasing as his smile softened. She sighed once more, a breath that bubbled upwards and left her lips like laughter. Love, that wasn't something the Camarata could take from her. It wasn't something they could quantify or control. And in this dark lit night, it was all hers to enjoy._

_She leaned up and kissed him, and it felt like starlight._

_"You and me. That's all I could ever ask for."_


End file.
